Not Entirely Useless
by She's a Star
Summary: Remus and Sirius share a peaceful morning at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. Set during OotP. (RL/SB.)


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Not Entirely Useless

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by She's a Star

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Disclaimer: Wwwwhyyy, JKR, WHY? Why did you do this to us? 

. . . I don't own them. If I did, d'you really think he'd be dead?

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A/N: All the depressing R/S slash was making me downright miserable, so I decided to write a bit of fluff in hopes of cheering myself up. And cheered up I am. :-) This is my first obviously-slash R/S. Enjoy . . . or something.

And for those boring fic-related details, this is set sometime during the school year in OotP, while Sirius and Remus are living at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.

Enjoy, or something like that.

:-)

One last note - this is for Dia (Gedia Kacela on Ff.N), because her amazing, very, _very_ sad fic _And Then There Was_ inspired me to write some R/S myself. 

*

He makes the coffee.

Two mugs - both chipped, and ancient (everything is ancient in this house) - stand empty, waiting to be filled. He pours carefully, the same amount in each, and Summons the cream. He adds a bit of cream to his own and stirs it, and leaves Sirius' black.

Padfoot has always preferred black coffee.

He smiles a little to himself and enchants the mugs to float in midair behind him; he leads them from the kitchen and makes his way toward the drawing room. The portrait of Mrs. Black remains, fortunately, silent as he passes. She is, he hopes, unaware of he and Sirius' relationship - he doesn't want to imagine how her shrieking would flourish if she found out her son was sharing a bedroom with a werewolf.

Sirius is still half-asleep (he never was a morning person), curled up in a faded old armchair in front of the fire. 

"Sirius?" he ventures quietly, making his way over to the armchair.

"Mmm . . . heya, Moony," Sirius responds, tone languid and words slurred with fatigue. "I smell coffee."

"Probably because I brought you some," Remus replies, nudging his best friend gently and brandishing the cup.

"Thank you," mumbles Sirius, and gratefully reaches for the coffee. He closes his fingers around it and spills a bit as he brings it to his mouth.

"Don't spill," Remus scolds lightly.

"'S five in the morning, Moony," Sirius replies sleepily. "I'm allowed to spill a little coffee. 'Sides, it doesn't make much of a difference. This place is a dump."

"You're not very optimistic," comments Remus. 

"Whaddya want me to say? That it's charmingly disheveled?"

"It always worked for James's hair," Remus says with a shrug, and laughs a little.

"Mmm," Sirius agrees halfheartedly, and leans his head on Remus's shoulder. "God, I'm tired."

"Drink your coffee," instructs Remus. "The caffeine will help."

Sirius scoffs and sets his mug down on the decaying end-table. "Fuck caffeine." After a moment's pause, he adds thoughtfully, "An Energizing Potion, maybe."

"Well, then," Remus says, smiling lightly, "If my coffee's not good enough for you, I suppose I could go owl Snape and see if he'll do something about it--"

"God, not Snivellus," moans Sirius indignantly. "Things that unpleasant shouldn't be allowed this early in the morning."

Remus rolls his eyes, wondering vaguely if Padfoot will ever grow up.

He won't mind so much, probably, if he doesn't.

"Speaking of owling," Remus says, rather reluctantly, "I have to go write Arthur about the meeting tonight--"

"Don't go," Sirius protests, latching his arm through Remus's. "I was just getting properly comfortable."

"Speak for yourself," Remus replies in a tone of mock-annoyance, though fondness seeps through all too easily. "You're not the one standing up."

"Sit down, then," invites Sirius, and tugs forcefully on an unsuspecting Remus' arm, causing him to collapse across his friend's lap.

"Sirius," Remus says patiently. "This chair was not built for two full-grown men."

"Says who?" Sirius challenges, grinning.

"You're completely mad, you know that?" asks Remus, smiling back as he takes one of Sirius's warm, callused hands in his own.

"I've been told that a couple of times, yeah," replies Sirius, nuzzling against Remus's neck. 

"Settle down, Padfoot," Remus teases, and they exchange smiles before falling into a comfortable silence. The fire crackles happily, orange flames dancing, and the faint aroma of coffee surrounds them.

Remus finds himself overcome with bliss again; sheer contentment that tastes almost foreign after twelve years in which he'd grown used to being alone. He imagined this, sometimes, on nights when storms erupted outside and it seemed that loneliness might consume him once and for all. He'd always felt guilty after wishing for it, of course; he'd known that he should hate Sirius more than anything for what he'd done to James, Lily, and Peter, but he couldn't.

He had never hated Sirius.

And then that night in the Shrieking Shack had passed, and he'd seen Sirius again, and known that he was innocent, known that he wasn't the only one left anymore. He'd hugged him and hoped, hoped beyond belief that someday things could be all right for them.

Now they are, and he finds himself lost in this moment, knowing that it will somehow last forever.

"Y'know," Remus says offhandedly, "I don't have anything to do for the Order until the meeting tonight - I'll be entirely useless all day."

Sirius' eyes are sparkling. "I'm sure I can find some use for you, Moony my friend."

"You don't say," Remus replies, arching an eyebrow.

"As a matter of fact," Sirius says mischievously, tilting his head to the side a bit as he leans toward Remus, "I just did."

"Oh," responds Remus simply, closing his eyes and parting his lips slightly--

"Sirius? Remus?"

A bewildered female voice fills the room from behind them, and they pull apart at once.

"Molly!" Remus barks immediately.

"Oh, shit," Sirius mumbles, detaching his hand from his friend's. "Moony, get off of me."

"Well, you have to let go of my _hand_ first, Padfoot."

"I just did!"

"What's . . . .going on here?" Molly Weasley inquires with an expression of polite curiosity as she stares at them. Her hands are on her hips, and Remus can't help but feel a bit like a student again, caught snogging in the Astronomy Tower. (Even though that had never actually happened to him - God knew James and Lily were found guilty of it a few times, and Sirius had a rather legendary record.)

"Stupid prat tripped and fell onto me," Sirius replies quickly. "There must be a loose floorboard or something."

"I suppose it's bound to happen once or twice in this house," Remus throws in with an apologetic smile.

Molly studies them critically for a second before replying, rather suspiciously, "All right then . . . I suppose so."

"Yup," Remus says, nodding vigorously; at the same time, Sirius exclaims "Definitely!" and nods as well.

There are a few awkward seconds of silence before Molly continues. "I'm just here to ask if Remus wanted to come have breakfast with Arthur, Bill, Tonks, and I at The Burrow. We've got a few things about the Order to discuss."

"Er," Sirius says intelligently.

"Actually, Molly," says Remus, "I'm exhausted this morning - a full moon's approaching, and I'm feeling a bit under the weather. I'm sorry, but I don't think I'll be able to make it."

"All right," Molly says, and Remus still has the unsettling feeling that they're being judged. "That's perfectly fine, dear. I do hope you feel better."

"I'm sure I will," he says with a smile.

"I'll be going home then," says Molly. 

Remus breathes an inward sigh of relief. "See you tonight, Molly."

"See you," Sirius echoes.

Molly's footsteps sound through the room, but stop abruptly about halfway across.

"Oh, and Remus?" she asks, deviousness apparent in her tone, "You might want to get off poor Sirius sometime today." A pause lingers in the air before she adds, "Unless, of course, you want to find some use for him, Sirius."

Remus and Sirius exchange horror-stricken glances as Molly disappears with a _Crack!_

"Well, _dammit_," Sirius announces matter-of-factly.

"I think we've been found out," Remus adds, biting his lip.

Sirius lets out a grave sigh. "I suppose there's only one thing left to do now."

"Which is . . . ?"

"Why, find some use for you, of course!" Sirius says, as though it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Of course," Remus replies, smiling. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Because you're an idiot," Sirius responds promptly.

"That's romantic," deadpans Remus.

"Well, it's true," Sirius proclaims, as though it's an incontrovertible sort of manner, and takes his hand again. "But I love you anyway."

"How generous."

They attempt another kiss; thankfully this time, uninterrupted.

The fire continues to dance, and the coffee is left forgotten.

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Fin.


End file.
